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- Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
- Path: sparky!uunet!sun-barr!ames!news.hawaii.edu!galileo!rigler
- From: rigler@galileo.ifa.hawaii.edu (Michael A. Rigler)
- Subject: 400 words
- Message-ID: <1992Aug15.212910.17917@news.Hawaii.Edu>
- Sender: root@news.Hawaii.Edu (News Service)
- Nntp-Posting-Host: galileo.ifa.hawaii.edu
- Organization: Ministry of Marqaha
- References: <8012@dirac.physics.purdue.edu> <1992Aug15.012439.24935@mnemosyne.cs.du.edu> <1992Aug15.032037.606@wdl.loral.com>
- Date: Sat, 15 Aug 1992 21:29:10 GMT
- Lines: 63
-
- bard@cutter.ssd.loral.com writes:
- >gbloom@nyx.cs.du.edu (Gregory Bloom) writes:
- ># sho@gibbs.physics.purdue.edu (Sho Kuwamoto) writes:
- ># >"What's happening?" I ask, shielding my eyes. "A man, a
- ># >plan, a transformation, Elohimes!" she responds. Her voice
- ># >shakes the room, threatening to tear the racks of collector
- ># >thimbles off the very walls. (In the background, the
- ># >Beatles sing, "...you don't look different, but you have
- ># >changed...") It is now 3:14.
- ># >
- ># >She sees my confusion and tries to help. "A maze," she
- ># >explains, "A puzzle, amazement. A jigsaw spider." At 3:57
- ># >she hands me the card of the hanged man. "Eat it," she
- ># >commands. "I must be inside you."
- ># >
- ># >The automatic coffee maker (whose clock reads a flashing
- ># >12:00) erupts.
- >#
- ># Descent through nested groups. The Mormon Choirmaster
- ># raises his baton expectantly. "You see it's a spy-ay-ay
- ># slpits my buns..." warbles the Kenner Close-And-Play.
- ># An afterimage of the infant Mary's first milk-tooth
- ># stains the retina of all present. 4:44.
- >#
- ># A web of strings, poised delicately to project a soft
- ># womb embrace, catches the eye of the lead Mezzo-Soprano.
- ># A moment of hesitation - all is lost. A soured similac
- ># smell derails the focus.
- >#
- ># I blink. She stares twin steel rails into my hippocampus.
- ># "The 4:51 express is now boarding." Click-click-click.
- ># One diagonal antispin transform and we're antislice.
- >
- >Time is now. 13:59, but the coffee maker disagrees. The
- >parson is looking under the bricks in the path to his
- >door for the keys to paradise. To no avail. ``Have you
- >asked the lady in the bottle?'' I ask.
- >
- >4:44, previous day: the drunken pirate staggers out into
- >the material world. "Aye, it's a good day to die," he
- >mumbles.
- >
- >Now, it's 8:17. She's pondering the pile of salt someone
- >left on her doorstep while we were inside making love.
- >There's blood. It's getting cold, so I leave. I miss
- >her, but our worlds are askew.
-
- 12:00 midnite, I make my sacrifice at the Temple of Woman
- (the one down on E 43rd Street). The Priestess gently
- removes the oxyacetyline blowpipe from my hand. "We just
- couldn't feed him." I tell her, lamely. She points
- towards the doors.
-
- I catch a monorail to the starport, and lose myself counting
- freighters. Dawn (5:47) catches me still outdoors. I don't
- make it to a shelter in time. They turn me away at the gates.
-
- Recalling the prophecy the lunatic made yesterday on the Plaza
- at 12:00 (high noon), I shout, "The Forest People shall have
- a new leader!"
-
- -=Rigler=-
- --
-